


The Beginning of The End

by impish_nature



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: A look at his thoughts throughout the series, Emily Potter - Freeform, Gen, Introspection fic, Jack Wright - Freeform, Lily Wright - Freeform, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Sammy 'coping', ben arnold - Freeform, hurt and not much comfort?, spoilers post 75
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: If knowledge is power, then why do I feel so helpless?A look at Sammy's thought process throughout the series. Or: What led Sammy on the path he took. (Ep 75 spoilers)





	The Beginning of The End

_Coward._

It had all started the night Ben brought Emily home.

Not right away, no. Not there on the air, when every motion had been filled with static, with fizzling, crackling movement and adrenaline. No, it was later. When the dust had settled. When all of that had started to wear off and wear thin on his nerves. When the door to his apartment closed with a click of finality and he unconsciously cut himself off from the outside world and the lie that he lived out there.

He leaned against his door for a moment, just breathing, eyes closed, letting everything wash over him. Let his own conflicting emotions rise to the forefront so he might make sense of them, or at least make sense of the numb dread that seemed to line the pit of his stomach.

He should have been elated- relieved even. Things were finally looking up. Sure they had a long way to go but Emily was back, she was right there with them. They could work with that, they could fix everything now that they knew she was safe and sound and home again.

Everything else would fall into place now, slip back into the way things should be. Ben would be able to stop obsessing, stop scribbling in that blasted notebook of his and they could go back to focusing on the stories at the radio station without actually playing an active part in them. 

_Pathetic._

A hiss of guilt slipped through him at the notion, shivering through his system in a wash of pure ice. It made his body jolt in a shudder away from the door. He opened his eyes quickly with a snap, the gloom dark and foreboding as his eyes refused for an instance to adjust. The urge to move, to do something suddenly consumed him and he found himself pacing, his feet tapping through his small apartment, one, two, one, two and back again. Lost and alone and trying desperately to stop himself thinking even as his thoughts ran him into the ground all at once.

There was just no possible way of escaping the supernatural and strange in King Falls. The mere suggestion of trying to ignore it all and pretend he had no part to play here, made him shudder in a self-disgusted way. It was one thing to be skeptical of the unknown but denying what he knew had happened? The things he knew had some semblance of truth behind them? After all, his very first night in town, Tim had been taken by the rainbow lights. His first night and already there had been an abduction. Who could deny that? And had he really not considered those first few months of his new life here as being an 'active part' in the investigation? Had checking up on Mary and the kids, asking for all and any information, not counted as that? 

Could he really say that now Emily was back, he would be able to just sit back and listen as someone else- To not lift a finger-

Nausea bubbled up at the thought, a hand flying to his mouth as he grimaced.

The people here weren't just an audience, not like before, not like the big city. He cared about these people, he wanted to be a part of their lives. He couldn't power down once the night was over and go on his way as if he hadn't heard a word, as if the stories didn't affect him in the slightest.

And they always had affected him, right from the beginning.

_You'd stop caring if you could._

"Stop it. You know full well- if they had needed me. If Ben had asked I'd have-"

_But would you have? Really?  
If you had known what they were planning last night, can you really say you wouldn't have tried to stop them?_

His steps faltered for a moment, the tiny hallway that led to his front door closing in around him as he stood there, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The whispers hissed louder and louder in response, crowding him, trapping him, in tandem with the rising drumbeat of a pulse at the base of his ear.

_That's why he didn't tell you. That's why he didn't involve you-_

"I said, stop it."

His words came out clearer that time. A whisper, sure, but steady and abrupt, like he was talking to an unwelcome caller on their show who had just overstepped a boundary. And for a moment, the darkness lifted, just ever so slightly, the notion that these thoughts were not his own, that they were someone else, lessening the severity of the words.

It was always harder to argue with yourself- especially when you knew that the voice inside your head was right.

"You're wrong. He-"

But soon enough the darkness crept back in as he breathed heavily where he stood, as his heart beat against his rib cage with the pain of it all.

"He..."

Ben hadn't told him.

Ben had written everything down in that notebook of his- reminding him so achingly of someone else in the most terrifying way- and he had  _tried_. This time he had tried so hard. He needed Ben to talk to him, to stop writing everything down and doing things on his own, because last time-  _last time_  he hadn't been able to. Last time he hadn't believed, he hadn't listened. He'd assumed too much and tried to help but in all the wrong ways. Last time he had lost  _him_ , lost everything that mattered, and the world had crumbled to cold, grey ash all because he hadn't been able to help-

_You failed. And you always will.  
...It's a good thing he didn't ask for your help tonight._

"No. No, he said-" Sammy turned, pulled away from the front door and back to his pacing, back to wandering the rooms as if doing something, anything would stop him thinking. "He said-"

_Of course, he did. What else would he have said?_

The whisper, slipped through his core, cold as ice and sharp as glass to his already fragile nerves.

Ben had told him he'd been helpful. That he couldn't have done it without him.

But he hadn't even known about the plan, hadn't been given a chance to help. 

And there was that niggling doubt, that still stinging pain from finally getting a chance to look in that notebook that never left Ben's side.

_Who is Sammy Stevens, Sammy? You don't even have an answer to that question anymore, do you? Hiding behind so many walls, so many lies. Of course he grew suspicious. Of course he doubted you._

"It doesn't matter. None of this matters." His hand tugged through his hair, the hairband growing tired of all his frantic movements and finally taking its leave, snapping out into the room, to hide in the gloom. He gave up instantly on finding it again, left it for the morning along with the other copious chores that he desperately needed to do. Left the lights off, scared that even with them on, the world wouldn't right itself even though it  _should_  be right, things were  _better_. "We- they-  _he_  got Emily back. That's what matters. She's back with us. I should be happy, I shouldn't be thinking about all of this, it's not-"

_Important?_

Sammy grit his teeth. " _Yes_. It's not important. It's-"

_You're jealous._

The singular realisation sent an ice cold river of water down his spine, a shudder of nauseating guilt and pain. "No. No, I'm not. That's- that's not fair."

_Selfish._

He closed his eyes against the torrent of self loathing. The pain he tried to bury so deep down clawing it's way back up his throat. He'd needed Ben to win, he'd needed him to beat the odds and bring Emily home, for both of them. He'd watched his best friend fall down into the spirals he had, watched another person he loved vanish from his sight to somewhere he thought he couldn't reach. Emily- he'd needed someone to come back to them, he'd already lost so much, to lose more, to lose her and then Ben to all of this-

He found himself shaking at the mere notion of them both never coming home. His hands gripped tight into his own arms, hard enough to leave marks he was sure in a disconnected way, but anything was better than not feeling at all. If he could physically hold himself together he would... he just wasn't sure that it could ever truly be enough to keep him from falling apart at the seams.

He wouldn't have been able to bear it if that had happened. The only reason he'd been able to function at all since they lost Emily was because Ben had needed him to do just that, had needed him to be the rock that kept him afloat.

Had needed him to be what he had never had.

The notebook had scared him, of course it had scared him. Beyond belief in fact. 

...But Ben without any hope had scared him more.

Ben becoming like him had scared him  _so much more_.

And so he'd pushed, he'd tried to keep Ben with him and out of the notebook, keep him where he could watch and protect him from himself. He would have done absolutely anything he needed to keep him safe and to bring Emily home, anything Ben would have asked he would have done in a heart beat.

And Ben had done it. Ben had succeeded.

A person who had been lost had come home to them.

So why did it hurt so much?

Sammy found it in him to move as he thought about the pain deep in his chest. Found it in him, to relax tight fingers that had been digging into his arms, even with the small creeping hint of a doubt that he might crumble without the force they had been exerting. Instead his hand went to his chest, rubbing a circle, pulling at his shirt as if he didn't already know that the tight, suffocating presence came from a far deeper place right at his core. 

Why couldn't he just be rejoicing at that moment?

...He knew the answer but still it didn't make it any less revolting and despicable in his own mind.

It hurt so much that Ben had succeeded where he never would, hurt to know that he would never get this ending. He'd been too late, done too little, his time had run out long ago and he wasn't even sure how hard he'd tried.

His heart beat against his finger tips, the pain of it all pulsing in hot waves through his bloodstream with every agonising thump, threatened to overwhelm him at a moment's notice.

He'd just wanted answers. He'd never believed in any of this stuff. Not like Ben, not like Jack- his breathing hitched, his fingers tightening once more- god, how long had it been since he'd actually said his name out loud? Too long, far too long, yet even now as he stood alone in the dark, he felt the name might break what was left of him, if he could even utter it at all. 

_Jack._

He'd needed to find him, find out what had happened. He'd vanished off the face of the Earth and no matter where he looked, every sign had pointed towards King Falls. And once he was sure of that, he had run, he had packed up everything that mattered- which wasn't much, not really- and made his way here, slipped into a new life as if he belonged and continued that search.

But he hadn't believed. Not like them. He'd thought he'd find answers, good or bad, but not more questions. The body in the lake; that was believable, that was the awful kind of news he'd expected to find. Or some strange shock of just finding him alive and well, having just- left of his own accord, having decided to investigate with or without his help. Both options had hurt, all his options had hurt, really. Every single thought he'd had for weeks and weeks after Jack had vanished had been what he would find and whether the answer would kill him outright.

Even now, the thoughts sent a cold shiver racing down his spine, biting into his very bones as bile rose in his throat. 

He hadn't wanted any of those realities to come true, of course not. But that's just what they had been to him- reality. Cold, hard, painful reality. One where no amount of hoping was going to change the fact that life could be cruel.

And so through it all, he still hadn't  _believed_. Still hadn't thought that maybe, just maybe Jack had been right because that added so many more unknowns to his search, so many more questions... so many more painful dark nightmares to wrestle with every night.

...And by the time he had believed, by the time it had started to sink in that Ben was right- that  _Jack_  had been right-

He knew it was already too late.

He'd been too late.

There was warmth flowing down his cheeks as his arms fell to his sides, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. He could feel himself numbing to the outside world, feel everything get impossibly far away as his ears rang.

He wasn't like Ben. He hadn't thought up every possibility, hadn't dredged up every little, impossible and unbelievable detail just in case it had something to do with Jack's disappearance. He hadn't continuously thought about him, hadn't stayed up every hour of the day and night looking for him, barely focusing on anything else. He'd watched his friend do just that, watched Ben become the hero he needed to be and it had scared him, pained him to watch him push through every waking moment, hurt himself continuously all to get Emily home.

What had he done? He'd built himself a life here. Had had fun, had made  _f_ _riends_. 

There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat, regretful, disgusted ash that coated his tongue and refused to be swallowed and ignored.

There were times when he had laughed and smiled and forgotten all about why he had come here. Had stopped thinking about what he was searching for- only for the world to come crashing down around his ears again as soon as he was alone and trying to sleep. He would close his eyes and Jack would be there, ready and waiting as always, desperately asking him for help that he hadn't been able to give him.

And then the cycle would start anew, day after day, week after week.

Month after month.

Was he even really looking anymore? Or had he given up on that as well? 

He wasn't like Ben.

And he wasn't sure he ever could be.

But he was glad- glad one of them had that power. Had the force and drive and the conviction to be everything he needed to be. 

He was glad Emily was home.

It just hurt too. In a way that he would never be able to explain to any of them.

How could he? How could he even begin to explain it all?

But even so, sometimes...

Every once in a while...

He still wondered about it. Telling him.

The room around him came into focus again, a whistling breath escaping him as he finally exhaled some of the emotions that had been bottled in with it. The thought of talking to Ben, of opening up and freeing himself of some of the burden his secrets forced upon him, dragging him ever so slightly back out of the spiral.

Ben deserved to know- hell, knowing might have even helped him through his ordeal. Knowing that someone understood even half of what he was going through could have made a difference. But he also knew that Ben would try to find answers for him too, would have extended his search to include Jack Wright in it. That he would have had to explain just how much the man had meant to him, how much of him had died the day he was suddenly gone from his life.

And maybe unlike him, Ben would have found answers. Would have solved the riddle that was his life. 

Sammy sucked in another breath, the sound hitching as he found himself holding it in, found himself trapped once more in all the what ifs that could and would entail.

Ben would find answers for him, he knew he would. It was as easy to believe as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. Just a fact of life, that was Ben Arnold.

But he also knew it wouldn't be a happy ending.

He knew that Ben would find out some terrible detail, some despairing clue that made it clear if he had just been faster, if he had asked for help sooner, _believed_  sooner, then maybe things would have turned out differently-

Maybe, he could have saved him. And that knowledge, that single thread of thought would kill what remained of him, he knew it would. 

No. He could never explain it to them.

Everything hurt too much to think about, let alone talk about.

Another shuddering gasp burst out of him. He wouldn't have been surprised if cold fog slipped past his lips as the room around him grew darker and colder still, right at the moment he acknowledged and accepted the loathsome part of himself that pulsed through his bloodstream. 

He couldn't even be happy that his missing friend was home. Couldn't be proud of his best friend who had done everything in his power, had moved heaven and earth, to bring her back. That against all odds, against everything that had been thrown at him to stop him, he had-

_You need to tell him what you know._

The voice took on a different quality. No longer his own, a voice that he had heard the night before, the one that had pushed him to stop his friend from succeeding even though they both desperately needed him too. It was a voice that he knew would haunt him, a voice that would continue to bite and snap at his heels whenever it could, would continue to implore him, beseech him to do what he must know he had to do.

"No."

_He has a right to know._

"He doesn't need to know." Sammy tried to step forward, to push back into his pacing but now that he'd stopped, his legs didn't want to hold him up. He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, too busy checking on Emily, on Ben, on pacing back and forth once he was alone. He found his way to sink into a seat nearby, the street outside the only light and sound entering into the bubble he had created for himself.

Alone with his thoughts.

Alone with what remained of Debbie to keep him company. 

_You should have told him. Should have made him listen to you before he did anything. He needed to know._

"It wouldn't have stopped him. He didn't need those doubts, he needed to bring her home. It would have just-" Confused things. Made things harder. It would have made him more liable to hurt himself. He needed to believe in his plan and see it through. Adding misguided misgivings to it all would have just upped the risks, upped Ben's determination.

It would have made him angry, and scared, he already didn't trust Sammy as it was, already thought he didn't know him, what would he have done or said if he had tried to stop him-

_Selfish._

And it hadn't mattered. Debbie had been  _wrong_. They had brought Emily back, she was with them. Unwritten or not, they had done it. Why should he tell Ben about what she said? What did it matter? Some strange caller, hellbent on scaring them to death, one that had already almost gotten Troy and Ben killed- why should he believe a word she said? Why should he tell anyone what she had told him? 

_If it really doesn't matter, then why_ **not** _let Ben hear it?_

The tape in the bottom of his bag, thrown haphazardly across the room earlier, burned in his peripheral. He couldn't even see it in the dark, just an innocuous blur to his side and yet he could feel it, all the guilt and shame burning a hole through the floor, in a line all the way to him as if it would never leave his thoughts.

Ben didn't need to know.

It was a kindness, that was all. Keeping it from him.

_He deserves the choice._

Sammy shook his head at himself, hands once again finding their way to tangle in his hair. Ben didn't need that on top of everything else. He didn't need to know what he was going through, what memories all this was bringing up. He didn't need to know about Debbie and the tape and all the talk that Emily shouldn't be here and that they shouldn't have saved her. 

He didn't need to  _know_.

Not when for a heart stopping moment last night, Emily hadn't been breathing-

Not when after everything, when relief was flooding through his chest, Emily had turned to him unblinkingly and had no recollection of him.

Ben needed him, Emily needed him- not the other way around. They didn't need his pain on top of their own.

Emily didn't need the implication that she shouldn't even be alive, when she was already struggling to remember half her life.

And he wasn't going to add to Ben's plate, wasn't going to add any more wounds and worries to his already frazzled mind.

He was going to be by his side and he was going to protect him.

Even if that meant adding another lie on top of all the other lies he had maintained over the years.

_...Coward._

The whispers left him after that, left him as he numbed, pushed all the thoughts and feelings back behind the walls, locked them tight behind excuse after excuse and lie after lie until his mind went blissfully blank. 

He wasn't sure if it was better, the silent, cold numbness as he sat and let the darkness creep over him without a care.

But still... it was something.

* * *

 

_"You should have told me."_

The words ate at him all the way home, all that night. Hell, they rang through loud and clear for the next two weeks that Ben refused to speak to, or see him. Whenever he had refused every heartfelt apology and every thought out honest moment that he had desperately tried to force on him.

Ben had looked so betrayed, eyes darting around as he connected all the dots that he had so desperately tried to hide away.

He hadn't been able to get any excuses out, not really, hadn't been able to explain. Debbie had forced his hand, had given him no escape route and he could feel his friend- his brother, pulling away from him no matter how hard he tried to stop him. Could see the look of horror in his eyes and feel the tremor of pain in his voice.

Why couldn't he understand that he had been protecting him?

Why couldn't he see that he hadn't needed to know, that knowing wouldn't have solved anything or stopped anything?

But even as he questioned it all, had tried to escape every word that Ben had said, he knew they were all true. He couldn't even make excuses to himself anymore. In hindsight, he should have told him, he should have given him all the information he could. It was how Ben worked, pooling every last detail together until the puzzle connected and everything made sense. Leaving him in the dark did nothing but point a long hard line of betrayal directly towards himself.

_He doesn't hide away from painful truths like you do._

There were tears threatening to fall at the corners of his eyes. He'd ruined everything, hadn't he? Found himself a place, a home in this strange little town. Found someone he could live for again and now he'd failed him as well.

He'd been keeping himself alive this whole time because his friend had needed him.

And then withheld a vital piece of information from him because of some misguided attempt at hiding a horror from him, of keeping him safe from whatever had been said that he didn't need to hear. And not just him- he'd kept it from Emily. Emily who was sick and tired of people lying to her, who had been pushed to the limit with her memories gone, had been told stories that held no truth in the hopes of keeping her isolated from her friends. Had been left in the dark long enough that that had been allowed to happen.

He'd let her down. Lied to her yet again, omitted another truth because it had been safer that way, because she deserved to live her life without worrying that she wasn't meant to _be_  at all.

Ben had clocked that so quickly. As soon as they were on the air he'd brought it up, reduced all of his arguments to rubble and laid the truth out bare for him.

Emily deserved to know.

_I told you. You should have told him, he knows what to do with the information, unlike **you**._

...Sammy couldn't disagree with the voice this time.

And every time Ben asked him to be open and honest with him, he died a little more inside.

Because he'd been hiding for so long, he wasn't sure that it was possible to come out into the light anymore.

* * *

 

It wasn't until he saw the news that Debbie entered into his head again.

They'd finally managed to tell Emily, had dealt with that fallout, dealt with all her questions and tried their best to keep themselves and each other above water since.

And there'd been other painful reminders to deal with, ones that had similarly pulled him away from thinking about Debbie and her cryptic messages. Lily was in town. Ben had invited her to the station, to talk to them on more than one occasion. 

He'd had to sit there as all the memories threatened to overwhelm him. Had listened to her snide, pointed remarks that no one else understood because they didn't know, had snapped and growled back just as fiercely because he hated it, he hated that she was there and dredging everything up again. 

Even if there was a slight flutter in his heart, a hope he quickly tried to squash that maybe, just maybe...

If anyone could find him it would be her, after all-

If anyone was going to do the impossible and drag him kicking and screaming from wherever he was, it would be-

But  _no_ , it was too late- it had been too late for far too long and her being here didn't change that.

And he couldn't help but hate himself for that little plea that his heart refused to give up. That glimmer, that little spark of a chance that she would succeed where he had failed.

If only his anger would stop flaring up every time he saw her, because whenever he so much as thought about her he remembered how long he'd been here, how he had found out absolutely nothing in all this time and she was just going to snap her fingers and right the world in a way he'd never achieved.

And wasn't that despicable? That he could hate the fact that she was going to be the one to bring Jack back if anyone was going to do it at all.

Nothing made sense. His world would be whole if she did it, he would be whole again if Jack was back and still-

He couldn't stop being angry at his sister who might actually have the slightest of chances at succeeding.

...Regardless, none of that mattered now.

He'd been staring at the headline for near on ten minutes. His heart felt like it had stopped beating in his chest, had sunk through the floor to rest six feet under the ground whilst also lodging itself deep inside his throat.

She'd stopped looking.

She'd quit.

There was nothing he could do. There had been that loathsome hope right at his core and it had shattered into a million pieces in a single instance because unlike him, Lily wasn't a quitter. 

He might be a failure, but she wasn't.

And if she couldn't do it then-

Then any chance he'd ever had, any single sliver of a dream that after everything there would be some sign, some chance in Jack returning- now, that was gone too.

That last light inside of him, that last part of him that Jack held, the one that had stayed alive unlike the rest of him, the one that had kept his heart beating in tandem with the world, had shrivelled up and been reduced to ash that had blown away on the breeze.

He felt hollow. Cold. He'd been celebrating with his friends only the night before, been laughing and joking as if his world was still spinning. As if he was still afloat, still knew how to breathe and live. But now he was sinking, down and down, drowning under the crushing weight of his world collapsing.

It was as if his grief had hit him all over again. As if after all these years it had reared it's ugly head to remind him that life would never hold meaning again.

The new year had only just begun and already he knew that nothing good would come of it. Not now. Not ever.

And if that was the case then- what was the point in any of it any more?

He blinked away the tears, finally sat down and read the article that accompanied the headline. He needed to know why.  _Why_ had she stopped, what had happened? Did she know something? Had she found something? Anything?

When the article had led to nothing he had grit his teeth, a pulse of seething anger settling inside of him where his heart had once been. It was a vicious warmth, a burning pain that he clung too because anything was better than the cold. And it fuelled him on, spurred him to find answers.

It hadn't taken long to find Lily's last podcast. It made the most logical sense that whatever was contained there was why her show had been put on an indefinite hiatus. 

It might not give him everything, but at least it would give him something.

And from there the fire had died once more, the cold creeping it's way back into the hole in his chest as ice flooded from his mouth and down his cheeks.

It was Debbie.

Of course it was Debbie.

It was almost hysterically funny, as if he'd known all along and yet of course he never could have. So simple, so obvious and yet so inconceivable all at once.

Lily wouldn't have fallen for it. Lily wouldn't have believed a word Debbie said. 

And yet even as he listened, as he tried to ignore whatever new twisted lie she was weaving, he couldn't help but believe her this time.

She had spoken about Jack and the world had stopped turning. 

She had told Lily where he was.

After all this time, all the cryptic messages from her, every single interaction and she had never said, never once told him.

She had known all along where Jack was.

If he'd only known to look there, only thought to ask. If she had given even one hint, one solitary clue that Jack was out there with her then...

But of course, why would she? No one had known. He'd been lying and hiding for so long, what else had he expected?

The world didn't give him second chances. Not when he had wasted the first chance so badly.

Giving him a second chance, obviously wouldn't have done him any good. 

He'd only ruin that one too. 

The answers were all there in front of him, every single thing he'd been searching for, for the last three years.

...Nothing had changed though.

Knowing didn't solve anything.

All it did was remind him that nothing came back from the void. That the shadows wanted to take and take and take- why on earth would they ever give anything back?

He'd always known he'd never get his happy ending.

But he did at least have an ending now.

And with that in mind he closed the article, closed the podcast and every other tab one by one, all on auto pilot, all whilst thinking through what happened next.

Until all that was left was the reason he'd even been on his laptop in the first place, that single document he was reading through, ready to face the next year with his friend, ready to start the year off right and renew his contract just like he did every year. One of those acts that kept him afloat and kept him from doing anything stupid because now he had an obligation to keep.

And then finally... he closed that too.

* * *

 

_"Come save him, Sammy."_

The voice had known exactly what to say.

He knew it was bait, he knew that whatever it was, was toying with him. That going down this path was exactly what it wanted and that there would be nothing good waiting for him at the end.

But he couldn't bring himself to care.

Not when he'd planning this for so long, maybe not in so many words or thoughts but really- it had always been the only option. He been packing up for weeks, saying his goodbyes, twisting half truths so that his friends wouldn't suspect where he was actually going because if they knew they'd try to stop him.

If they knew they'd try to help. Try to change his mind, to figure out a different way, a different course of action that he already knew had no chance of working.

There had only ever been the one option, since he had found out. Since Debbie had uttered those fateful words and everything had been laid clear.

And he wouldn't let his friends follow him, not this time. They had to continue on, had to live now that they had been given their second chances to do so.

But not him.

He could feel it calling to him, even now, could feel the pull of the voice, of the gateway nestled deep in the woods as if he had seen it before when in reality he'd never actually set foot there.

The void knew.

It knew that he needed no further convincing, that his friends would never be able to call him back from the path he had stepped out on to now.

It knew that he would keep walking the path until he found what he was looking for. 

He closed his eyes, exhaling a long shuddering breath as he tried to will away his tears, as the voice rang around his head over and over again.

_"Come save him, Sammy."_

"...OK."

**Author's Note:**

> Gah, give Sammy a hug. I need him to have hugs.  
> A friend requested me doing Sammy's thoughts on Debbie and this monster was born.  
> This got tweaked a lot in the end, so I really hope it's OK <3


End file.
